


A Dad Who Watches Over Me

by et_tu_lj



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Abandonment, Angelic Possession, Angels, Episode Related, Episode: s04e20 The Rapture, Family, Family Drama, Father-Daughter Relationship, Gen, Season/Series 04
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-01-07
Updated: 2018-01-07
Packaged: 2019-03-01 12:51:41
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 744
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13295268
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/et_tu_lj/pseuds/et_tu_lj
Summary: When Daddy comes home different a year later, Claire wants to pretend nothing's wrong. Then the voice tells her to be strong, and she knows it's not over yet.





	A Dad Who Watches Over Me

**Author's Note:**

> Set during episode 4.20, The Rapture, when Jimmy goes home to his family.

When I look in his eyes, I can see something’s different inside, but when he holds me close it doesn’t matter. He’s my father and he loves me, and what he said a year ago was a lie. With his arms around me, I can pretend everything’s the same.

If I lean into him just a bit more, my head still fits into exactly the same place, and the inch and a half I’ve grown doesn’t exist. His cologne smells of rainwater and sage and I breathe it deep. It’s too strong, as if I he’s just splashed it on for Momma, but familiar enough to banish the stale memory of abandoned clothes held in storage. He kisses my hair, and I can forget the too-sweet smell of cedar chips I’ve made do with for a year.

Momma brings the food and I let go of him. It’s not the kind of meal we used to have, just sandwiches, but when he smiles it doesn’t matter.

“It’s perfect.”

But he’s wrong - something’s missing. He reaches for a sandwich, and the oddness hits me.

“Daddy? Aren’t you gonna say grace?”

He looks away then, and something crumbles in him.

“No honey, I don’t think I am.” 

His whole face is trembling, and a tear runs down his face. Momma pretends she doesn’t see, but I don’t want him to be sad. “Why are you crying?” 

“Because I’m happy.” It’s a lie, but maybe it’s the truth too. There’s so much sadness in his eyes, so much I don’t understand. But under that, I think maybe I can see his relief. He’s grateful for this moment, and I smile. We’re a family again, and the rightness of that is more important than the empty days behind us.

**_Be strong._ **

The doorbell rings and Momma goes to answer, but the words didn’t come from the man at the door. Daddy goes to see, but I don’t look even as Momma comes back to get something from the kitchen. Somehow I know they didn’t hear the voice.

Then Momma screams, and everything goes crazy. Daddy’s afraid, and the fear in his eyes scares me more than anything. He’s rushing us, pushing us along in a stumbling, weaving flight, and his terror is a live thing chasing us after us. Momma’s scared too, but more mad than anything. She thinks it’s Daddy’s fault, whatever’s happening here, and she won’t stop yelling, hitting him as if he’s the thing to be afraid of. It’s all wrong and I’m so scared I can’t breath. They shouldn’t be fighting, not over me, and when she tells me to run, I do.

I’m almost at the door when someone grabs me, jerking my arm so hard it makes my eyes water. I push against him, my whole body screaming at me to run, but Roger blinks at me, eyes turning black, and my blood freezes. He’s empty, his shiny black eyes like the doll on my bookshelf that keeps me awake at night, and even when he blinks again and it’s gone, I know he’s still empty.

There’s a knife at my throat, so close I can feel the cold of the blade. By the time Daddy comes around the corner, the thing that’s not Roger is ready for him.

When he sees us, Daddy says a bad word and I know. Whatever’s in Roger, whatever’s happening now, this is part of what’s changed him. This is what’s stolen him from us for a year.

**_Don’t be afraid._ **

“Daddy?”

The voice is so familiar I answer automatically, but something’s off.

“Just let her go, okay?” Even broken and afraid, his is the voice that has sung me to sleep, comforted me when I fell and skinned my knees on the uneven concrete in front of the house.

But when I close my eyes and listen, I know the other voice too, graveled and inflectionless, yet not completely without warmth. It’s the voice Daddy used when he left me standing alone on the porch.

**_I am with you._ **

“Daddy?”

I see her just before she attacks, but not in time to warn him. I can’t watch when she starts to hit him. I close my eyes and the voice fills my head, drowning out the sounds of fighting with its resonant sound. And it’s then that I realize – this is the voice that took Daddy away, but it also brought him back.

**_Have faith._ **


End file.
